


Not A Hawk Feather in Sight

by God_of_Doors



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Doors/pseuds/God_of_Doors
Summary: Arden is very careful about following the Green Pact, to the detriment of his own health and comfort. Teldryn frets.Written for OC Whump WeekDay 3: Sickness/Fever
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero
Kudos: 27
Collections: Arden and Teldryn





	Not A Hawk Feather in Sight

Arden wasn’t sure he remembered the trek back to Raven Rock being such a long, miserable walk. By the time he could see the beam of light emitted by the Earth Stone beckoning them to safety, it was all he could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He barely even realized his foot had caught on something before he suddenly found himself face-down in the ash. It felt as though his pack had suddenly become three times heavier than it should have been, pressing him down into the soft, ashy soil and daring him to try to get back up.

“You alright?” Teldryn’s voice drawled from somewhere above him.

Arden pushed himself up on shaking arms, struggling for a moment to free his foot from the trama root that had tripped him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

A hand waved in his periphery, and Arden took it gratefully, allowing Teldryn to do most of the work in hauling him back to his feet. He stumbled, the weight of his pack continuing to throw off his balance more than he was prepared to compensate for, but thankfully Teldryn didn’t release his grip until Arden seemed confident in his footing again.

“Really? ‘Cause you don’t look fine.”

Arden sighed, taking a moment to try to brush some of the dirt from his armor. His fingers felt clumsy and unresponsive, almost as though he were drunk, and Arden felt the first spark of anxiety that something was actually wrong. Still, he merely shook his head. “I think I’m just tired.”

Teldryn hummed in response, but whether it was a hum of disbelief or mere acknowledgment, Arden couldn’t be sure. They resumed their steady trudge forward, with Arden now keeping a sharper eye out for roots. His pack seemed to grow heavier by the second, the soft ground threatening his balance with every step until his speed had slowed to a crawl. He was sweaty and trembling, and beginning to doubt very much that this was a result of mere exhaustion.

Teldryn paused when he realized how far Arden was lagging behind him. When Arden finally caught up, Teldryn shifted his own pack to one shoulder and held out his free hand. “Give me your pack.”

Arden stopped in surprise. “What?”

“We’ll get to town a lot sooner if we walk faster than a shambling draugr.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently.

Arden stalled for a moment, but the offer was enticing, and finally he nodded and slid his pack from his shoulders. Even with a pack on each shoulder, Teldryn was still keeping a pace that forced Arden to struggle to keep up, but Arden managed not to fall so far behind that Teldryn felt the need to pause again until they reached the bulwark. Raven Rock had never seemed larger as they slowly made their way to the other side of the settlement where Severin Manor awaited them. He fumbled with the key for several seconds before the lock finally released and he practically tumbled through the doorway.

He went straight for the chair near the fireplace, only pausing long enough to remove his bow and quiver and set them next to the chair before sinking into it with a poorly-stifled groan. Everything hurt, and he felt shaky and weak and slightly out of breath. A headache blazed behind his eyes, and he clumsily stripped off his goggles so that he could press his fingers against his eyes. There was a rustle of leather, and then a cool, bare hand pressed against his forehead.

“B'vehk, you’re hotter than a blacksmith’s forge!”

The hand was gone a moment later, but Arden didn’t have a chance to mourn the loss before his own hands were forcibly pulled from his face.

“Look at me.”

Arden obliged, opening weary eyes to find Teldryn, sans helmet for once, on one knee in front of him so as to be at eye-level. Teldryn gently pulled down the skin of one eye, then the other, then trailed his hand down to Arden’s jaw to prod gently at the soft space under each ear in turn. Arden winced, mildly surprised at the soreness there, but Teldryn was unfazed. He finally took Arden’s hand in his own. “Squeeze. Hard as you can.”

Arden squeezed until his hand shook, but he could tell it wasn’t anywhere close to what he should have been able to manage after years of archery slowly strengthening his grip.

“Okay,” Teldryn said, releasing Arden’s hand. “Didn’t think it was Corprus but thought I’d double check. Could be Bone Break Fever, considering the… well, the fever. Should be fine with a Cure Disease potion, whatever it is.”

Arden huffed a small laugh. “I didn’t know you were a healer on the side.”

Teldryn snorted. “Believe me, I’m not. But you don’t live 200 years without picking up a few things.” He got to his feet. “Do you even have a Cure Disease potion?”

Arden shook his head. “Hawk feathers are just as good. There should be some in the alchemy lab somewhere.”

Teldryn cringed. “What, you just… eat them whole?”

“I didn’t say they were pleasant.” Arden had gagged more than once on the weird prickly feeling that inevitably got caught in his throat, but they were lightweight and easy to obtain.

Arden grimaced as he curled forward, tucking his arms against his torso. A disgusting mixture of ash and sweat had worked its way into every crevice, making even the smooth edges of his armor chafe against his skin. Small tremors ran through him every few seconds, a precursor to all-out shivering, he was sure. Moments ago he’d wanted to press into the cool pressure of Teldryn’s hand, but now he rather wished that there was a fire in the hearth beside him.

He stewed in his misery for a bit, before he began wondering what was taking Teldryn so long. The hawk feathers should have just been on one of the shelves. A memory triggered suddenly, and Arden cursed softly. “Teldryn!” He heaved himself out of the chair and leaned over the short wall to call into the stairwell. “Tel, I just remembered, I used the last one on a stealth potion.”

“Well, I suppose that would explain why I couldn’t find any,” Teldry huffed as he came back into view. He looked up at Arden with a regretful expression. “I’d give you one of mine, but I couldn’t tell you what’s in it.”

Arden sighed and shook his head slightly, though even that much movement felt like a chore. “That’s alright. I’ll go see what ingredients Milore has.”

“I can do that,” Teldryn replied quickly. “You stay here. You’ll need to rest even after we get a cure down your throat.”

Arden’s lips quirked upward in a small smile of gratitude, and he untied his coin purse from his belt to hold out over the stairs. Teldryn reached out and caught it smoothly as it fell, then bounded up the stairs. He took a moment to put his helmet and gloves back on, make an odd gesture that Arden thought may have been some kind of salute, and then he was out the door again.

Arden relocated to the master bedroom while Teldryn was gone, slowly removing his armor piece by piece until he was finally in just his linen undershirt and pants. He needed to clean the ash from his weapons. He needed to clean the ash from himself. He needed to clean his armor and repair the damaged strap on one of his bracers.

Arden sank into a chair and did none of those things. He still hadn’t convinced himself to get up and move by the time Teldryn finally made it back. When he removed his helmet again, the look on his face told Arden immediately that he hadn’t been successful.

“Every potion she had had either berries in it for flavor or flowers in it for extra healing properties,” Teldryn groused, “and she was out of ingredients for us to just make it ourselves. Best she could do was send an order to the mainland.”

Arden let the disappointment sink in for a moment. Having a Bosmer’s natural resistance to most diseases, combined with easy access to necessary alchemical ingredients anywhere his journey had taken him up to this point, Arden had never actually had to endure being ill for more than a day. “I guess… we wait it out, then.”

Teldryn hesitated for a long moment, and then sighed. “I’ll be back.”

Arden watched him leave with disinterest born of misery. His scalp was itchy, but even raising his arms to take his pony tail down felt like too much work at that point. He wasn’t sure if he dozed off exactly, but time no longer had meaning when every minute felt like a year. Eventually he heard Teldryn return, accompanied by the sound of sloshing water. Curious, Arden raised his head just as Teldryn set a mug of steaming liquid on the table next to him. The sloshing sounds, however, were coming from a small bucket of steaming water, which Teldryn set near Arden’s feet. He dropped a rough cloth into the bucket with an unceremonious plop, then tossed an extra blanket he’d had over his arm onto the bed.

“I’ll take care of your armor,” Teldryn said abruptly. “You get cleaned up. The mead is from your own stash, by the way.”

Arden watched dumbfounded as Teldryn gathered his armor from the pile he’d left it in, then left without another word. He got the feeling that Teldryn wasn’t accustomed to playing nursemaid, which really just made the whole situation even more surreal. Oddly inspired by the unselfish act, Arden wiped the ash from his skin as efficiently as he could manage and found some clean clothes to sleep in. By the time he was done and shivering violently from the dampness of his skin, the heated mead had cooled to a reasonable temperature. Arden wrapped the extra blanket around himself, now shielded from any stray drafts but still cold, so with his mug of mead clutched tightly in both hands to avoid dropping it, Arden trudged up the stairs to sit by the fire.

Teldryn had changed out of his armor and cleaned most of Arden’s things already. The damaged bracer had been set aside for later work, and he was finishing up with its twin when Arden finally made it to the top step, prompting Teldryn to look up. “Thought you would go to bed,” he said.

“I’m cold,” Arden mumbled, sliding into a chair near the fire.

Teldryn hummed and returned to the task at hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes, but Arden realized he needed to say what he intended to before he fell asleep where he sat.

“Thanks. I appreciate the help.” Teldryn looked up, but Arden pressed on before the merc could comment. “I know it probably seems like I’m just being difficult, so… yeah. Thanks for being accepting and stuff.” Arden let his eyes fall shut, fully aware that there were a myriad of ways he could have made that more eloquent, but lacking the energy to try again. When Teldryn didn’t respond, Arden cracked one eye open, catching a glimpse of a soft half-smile on Teldryn’s face.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, Arden closed his eyes again, and didn’t move until he felt his mug being taken from his hand. Teldryn lifted him gently by the shoulder, and guided him down the stairs with an arm around his lower back. Only half-conscious, Arden let it happen. Teldryn’s body wasn’t as warm as the fire, but it was sufficient. When Teldryn deposited him on his bed, Arden reached out to grab him, missing his arm but still managing to hook a finger in one of the folds of Teldryn’s tunic.

“Can you stay? You’re warm.”

Teldryn sighed, but it didn’t sound as put-out as he’d seemed to be aiming for. “You better not get me sick.”

“You have a Cure Disease potion.”

Teldryn inhaled as though he were going to say something, but then kicked his shoes off and settled down next to Arden.

Arden smirked to himself, shifting around a little to get comfortable, then going still. His body still ached, he was still not warm enough, and there was still a headache pulsing between his ears, but he still found himself able to doze off. Later, he would wonder if he actually heard Teldryn’s voice say “You’re going to be the death of me.”


End file.
